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Sunday, July 28, 2013

I am pushing my cart through the liquor store picking up a few goodies for the weekend when this weird feeling comes over me. It feels like my skin is burning from the inside. Sweat begins pouring from my forehead into my eyes and I get this overwhelming feeling that I am going to pass out.

I think, “Oh my God, this is spontaneous combustion!” In two minutes I’ll be nothing more than a scorch mark on the floor of the liquor store.

I tear off my jacket and my T-shirt is already soaking wet. I spot the beer cooler and make a bee-line. I run like a women on fire to the cooler letting go of the cart and it rolls into a wine display.
A female store attendant pokes her head around the stack of Corona neatly piled up at the entrance. I am sitting on top of a waist-high stack of Labatt Lite, fanning myself with the bottom of my T-shirt. Steam is seeping from my pores.

“Are you ok?” she nervously asks me. “Hot flashes” I inform her. “I’ll leave you alone” she nods as she walks way. She has an after- thought and pokes her head back in “Don’t open any beer ok? It’s illegal to open it in the store.” Then she backs out as if she is inside a bear cage at a zoo instead of the beer cooler at her place of work.

Hot Flashes! I had my first one about a week ago. I started early menopause a year ago and started having night sweats at the same time. I thought that was the worst thing that could happen to me.

Wrong!

Hot flashes are the worst thing that could happen to me. It’s hard to believe that the good Lord would make us bleed and cramp for forty years then burn in hell for the next forty.

I now keep bottled water in my freezer not to drink but to put between my boobs when I have hot flashes.

I phone my sister and ask her how long these last “I’ve had them for twenty years” she tells me.
Twenty years!!! What?

I can’t go through twenty years of spontaneously combusting in public. I am already banned from the liquor store. She tells me there’s a hormone treatment. All I can think of is “Great, $1500 spent on laser hair removal and now I have to take hormones.” It leaves me with visions of becoming the bearded lady in a circus side-show.

I make it home toting a dozen Labatt Lite. I don’t even drink Labatt Lite I just felt obligated after I melted on top of the box. Plus my bum print was on the box.

By the time I get to my bedroom and take off my soaking wet T-shirt another hot flash hits. I open the windows all the way. My hair is soaking with sweat and curls up into a Foxy Brown afro. The sweat burns my eyes and I want to pull the skin off my body. Good Lord, the feeling of fainting takes over me. I just make it to bed and lay on top of the comforter. After a few minutes I come to and drag myself off the bed. I look at the comforter. The imprint of my body is outlined on the material from the sweat. It reminds me of the X-rays left on the buildings after the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima.

Hot flashes. Just another thing to look forward to ladies.

I stagger to the windows and start turning the handle that closes them. There’s a teenager sitting in a car across the street from my house. He has the radio on blast and I can hear Tom Cochrane singing “I am white hot. I can’t take it anymore.” I think “You and me both brother, you and me both.”

Then I realize that I am standing in the window wearing nothing but a bra and this kid is looking at me like I am Mrs. Robinson.

“Hot flashes. I am having hot flashes” I yell out the window. He slowly drives away. “I hope he wasn’t my son’s friend” I think to myself.

Friday, July 19, 2013

I went to George Street to enjoy a night out with my friends and being a responsible person, I left my car at home. After our evening was over I decided to take a taxi home. I walked up to the stand and opened the back door of a parked taxi and asked if he was available. I didn’t realize that there was already a male passenger sitting in the back seat. The driver asked, “Where are you going?” Thinking he was going to call another taxi I told him, “The east end.” The man in the back spoke up and said, “That’s where I am going. Hop in and we’ll share a cab.” It was then I noticed that the passenger was drunk. His speech was slurred and he could barely keep his balance as he patted the empty back seat next to him. “No thanks” I said and closed the door.

I would never get in the car with an impaired driver. I also would never share a taxi with an impaired stranger. That’s just common sense.

Alcohol can make a normally passive person aggressive, a quiet person loud and give an asshole an excuse to do something he wouldn’t have the nerve to do if he was sober.

Not getting into the taxi with a drunken passenger was my choice. Now let’s change the situation.

I am in Halifax boarding a flight home to St. John’s. I go to my assigned seat next to the window. As the plane ascends into the clouds I put my headphones on and start watching a movie. The man sitting next to me orders Vodka on the rocks. He is coming home from Fort McMurray. I know this because he tells everyone around us who will listen. He tries several times to start a conversation with me. I take one headphone off and answer him with a single word (Yes or no) then go back to my movie. He is on his second Vodka but from the way he is acting I can tell he had a lot more than that in the airport bar and probably on the other flight from Alberta. He is so loud I can’t hear the movie.

The flight attendant smiles as she passes him a third Vodka and takes his credit card. I look at her annoyed. There is no mistaking the pissed off look on my face when she hands him back the credit card. I think about asking her not to serve him anymore alcohol but I know this will make him even more aggressive. I know I can’t move because they already announced the flight is over-sold. He refused to take the hint that I don’t want to talk to him. I finally say, “I am watching a movie. Leave me alone.” Then he starts in with the “Oh you’re too good to talk to me are you? Some people think they’re too good to talk to a common worker. I work 60 hours a week in Fort Mac….” He continues on about how he contributes to the economy of Alberta.It turns into the flight from hell for me as I now have to put up with this drunken idiot beside me.

I didn’t ask to sit next to a drunk on this flight. I assumed when I booked my ticket that Air Canada would also keep my safety in mind. During the flight I had to pretend to watch the movie to avoid talking to him. I was hyper aware that if he started getting aggressive I would be the first in his line of fire. I had to watch his drunk, exaggerated hand movements out of the corner of my eye because it seemed like he was going to grab my knee. I thought to myself, what if I had my daughter with me? How would I protect her from this drunken man? I couldn’t even protect myself and the flight attendant didn’t seem to care.

This week the media ran two stories about planes having to make unscheduled stops because of intoxicated passengers.So my question is; why is alcohol allowed to be served on an airplane?

Intoxicated passengers are more than just annoying. They also pose a risk to their own safety and the safety of others. What would happen if our plane had to be evacuated due to an emergency? We were seated in the middle of the plane. It would take two men to lift him off the aircraft if he was passed out or maybe four police officers to subdue him if he started to freak out. Either way, I would be pinned to my window seat left to fend for myself. I would be trapped with no way to exit the plane. So if there were a fire, I would die due to Air Canada serving alcohol to this intoxicated man.

By serving this man alcohol Air Canada was putting my life and safety as risk. Not to mention how he was allowed to annoy not only me but everyone around us. He continuously used profanity totally oblivious to the lady and two children seated across from us and at one point announced to the whole plane how he “Had to take a piss!” He staggered through the plane to the bathroom and returned about fifteen minutes later telling everyone how he “Pissed like a race horse!” Needless to say no one used the bathroom after him.

I cannot order a beer on a city bus, or ask for a cocktail in a taxi, so why is it I can order alcohol on an aircraft. Air travel is a vital part of life. We have no choice but to use if whether for work or pleasure.

Years ago airlines glamorized the “Inflight cocktail and cigarette” when they marketed air travel to consumers. Years later they banned cigarettes because they were a health hazard to travelers who did not smoke. That was the right thing to do.

I think the time has come to ban alcohol to protect the safety and security of passengers.

If a plane had two or more intoxicated people on board how could they evacuate passengers according to their industry standards? How can a flight attendant subdue an unruly, intoxicated person in a confined space like the seat on a plane or the small walk way. How can they ensure the safety of the passengers seated next to them?

When I buy a ticket on an aircraft for me or my family, we have a right to a safe environment. It is a reasonable expectation that and my children will not have to sit next to a drunken man screaming profanities or passing out in the chair next to us, impeding when and how we can leave our seats.

It’s time for airlines to do the right thing and stop selling alcohol onboard aircrafts.

When I pay hundreds of dollars for an airline ticket, I expect that I will not be seated next to someone who will harass me for hours in a setting that I can’t get out of. I also expect a full can of Coke, but that’s a blog for another day.

I am Funny Like That

Helen C. Escott retired from the world renowned Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) in 2014 as the Senior Communications Strategist for Newfoundland and Labrador. Before joining the RCMP she worked in the media for 13 years (OZ FM/ VOCM/ CJYQ) in various positions including reporter, on-air personality, marketing and promotions.

In Retirement, Escott writes a blog called “I am Funny Like That” and has over 123,000 readers worldwide. Now this hysterical blog has come to life a witty book! It ranked on Amazon’s bestsellers list as #6 in Kindle Store and #20 in Books.

Escott has a unique perspective on life and a funny way of looking at it. From wearing granny panties to Brazilians to capturing the essence of a moment in a person’s life. Escott will make you laugh out loud and feel better about yourself. She is the best friend you have always wanted and the life of the party. You will be glad you invited her into your life.

If you have thrown your back out taking off Spanx, planned your husband's murder in your head or screamed through a Brazilian, this book is for you.

If you need a good laugh, or need to smile, this book is better than Prozac it will make you laugh out loud for days after reading it. 123,000 blog readers can't be wrong! Join in the laughter.